


The last time I said that...

by Skye_Writer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 14:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_Writer/pseuds/Skye_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The last time I said something like that, you hit me with your shoe. And you actually had to sit down and unlace it first."<br/>(Written for Cotton Candy Bingo on DW. Prompt: Humor.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The last time I said that...

**Author's Note:**

> I have always hated the "lol, female on male abuse is funny" implications of this particular thread of dialogue in "The God Complex," so I thought I'd recast this particular instance of it, at least, in a more light-hearted manner.

They’re back on the TARDIS after another adventure and as they make their way up the stairs, Rory says quietly, “You know, I’m starting to think we should warn people when we start getting involved.”

Amy blinks. “How do you mean?”

“Like, we bring trouble, you should probably run the other way if you want to live.”

Amy elbows him. “Don’t say that!”

Rory just looks at her, his brow furrowed a little. “Why not?”

“I—just—because.” She’s at a loss, and she knows he can see it, so she improvises. “I—I’ll hit you with my shoe.”

Rory raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Amy nods firmly. There’s no point in backing down now. “Yes.”

He glances down at her feet and gives her another significant glance, and Amy remembers that she’s wearing her knee-high boots, the ones that lace all the way up her calf. “Good luck,” Rory says, giving her the cute smile she loves for just a moment before he turns tail and dashes down the corridor.

“I— _Rory Williams, you get back here—!_ ”

She sees him, in the distance, poking his head out of one of the side corridors. “You’re going to have to catch me first!” he calls back, and that’s what does it.

Amy sits down on the top step and begins unlacing her left boot. It goes all the way up, and it’s going to take a few minutes, which wouldn’t be a problem if Rory weren’t running around the TARDIS. The Doctor’s mentioned on several occasions how the TARDIS’s interior is almost infinitely large (Amy had asked him once how something could be _almost_ infinite, and he’d changed the subject).

Speaking of the Doctor, he’s watching her now from around the console, a puzzled look on his face. “Everything all right?” he asks.

“Fine!” Amy replies, pulling the laces through another set of holes. Just a few more and she’ll be able to work the boot off her foot, and then she can find Rory. In one shoe, but it’s not like she has time to unlace the other one as well. 

She hears the Doctor tapping away at the console, and as she tugs the boot off, he says, “He’s hanging around the Squash Court complex. In case you were wondering.”

Amy doesn’t have the slightest clue where the Squash Courts are, but she nods at the Doctor in thanks anyway as she gathers up her boot and stands. Without another word, she starts off down the corridor, making a turn at the intersection where Rory had taunted her. She doesn’t have a clue where she’s going, and the TARDIS isn’t the kind of place that has helpful maps posted every hundred meters, but that doesn’t matter. She calls out for Rory at intervals, but for the most part remains quiet, stalking around corners like an agent in some spy movie. There’s never any sign of Rory, but she’s having far too much fun to mind. He’ll turn up. The TARDIS never lets them get lost anyway.

She’s not sure how much time has passed when she peers around a corner and spots him. He has his back to her, and she’s almost certain he’s peering around a corner himself. Amy’s been particularly vocal about finding him the last ten minutes or so, and she’s glad her threats have been making him anxious. 

It’s now or never. She eases her way around the corner and slinks along the wall behind him, taking care to place her booted foot as silently as she can. When she’s but two feet behind him, she raises her boot and smacks him in the side with the long end of it.

Rory jumps and almost falls over, and as he scrambles to turn around Amy points the end of her boot at his heart like a sword. “Yield, Centurion,” she says, grinning. “You’re beaten.”

They hold each other’s gaze for just a moment, deadly serious, and then they both start giggling like kids. Amy drops the boot and grabs the front of Rory’s shirt, dragging him properly to his feet so she can kiss him.

She kisses him fiercely, moving her tongue into his mouth without preamble, moaning softly as his hands find her hips and slip under her shirt. He caresses her skin gently, and she moves into him, pushing him back against the wall as she nips his lower lip. One of his hands drifts farther up her back, his fingers brushing against her spine, making her shiver with the first stirrings of ecstasy. She reaches down for the waistband of his trousers, but he pulls away for just a moment.

Amy gives him a look, but he immediately replies, “Our bedroom’s just down the hall.”

She grins again, and kisses him as he picks her up and carries her off to bed.


End file.
